


Slow Leak

by paperscribe



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Attraction, Banter, Home Repairs, Leaky Pipe, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1894344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperscribe/pseuds/paperscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gurdip has a problem with his house, and Robbie and James come to the rescue.  Then, more DIY adventures of a more personal nature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ComplicatedLight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComplicatedLight/gifts).



James was sipping his customary orange juice when his mobile rang. He frowned at the number.

"Who is it?" Lewis asked.

"Gurdip," James said. "Hello?"

"Sergeant Hathaway, I'm very sorry to bother you," Gurdip said, "but you're the only one I could think of to call."

"What's wrong?" James asked.

"My ceiling is leaking," Gurdip said. "Insistently."

"Hole in the roof?" James asked.

"No, the ceiling is directly below my…water closet," Gurdip said, clearly embarrassed. "Can you help?"

"If it's a small problem, maybe," James said. "Do you have any tools?"

"What sort of tools?" Gurdip sounded panicked.

"Never mind. I'll bring mine," James said. "Where do you live?"

Gurdip gave his address. "Please hurry."

"I'm on my way," James said.

Lewis raised his eyebrows. "Leaky ceiling?"

James nodded. "Do you know anything about plumbing?"

"A bit," Lewis said.

"I could use the help," James said. "And from the sound of it, so could Gurdip."

"Right," Lewis said. "Let's go."

***

They picked up their collective sets of tools and were at Gurdip's within a half hour.

Gurdip met then in the front entryway with a worried expression on his face. "The leak is here…make sure you step around the puddle."

Lewis looked at the dripping ceiling for a moment, then at Gurdip. "Right. Can you show us to your bathroom?"

Gurdip took them up the stairs.

James broke the silence. "I think we might have to take the floor up."

Lewis nodded. "Should be right in the middle. Hopefully there won't be anything wrong with the plasterboard, but be careful…it might be a bit unstable underneath."

James nodded to show he understood.

"Unstable?" Gurdip said, worried.

"It depends how long it's been wet," James said.

Gurdip did not look reassured by this statement, but he nodded his understanding.

"We should make the hole small as we can," James continued.

"Hole?" squeaked Gurdip.

"Don't worry," Lewis said. "As James said, we'll get it sorted."

"By making a hole in my floor?" Gurdip asked.

"Well, we could phase-shift the top layers of the floor so we can reach through it to get at the pipes, if you've got the phase-shifting equipment," James said.

Gurdip just stared at him. "What?"

"Joke," James said.

Gurdip nodded. "Oh." He shifted uneasily from foot to foot. "I'll…leave you to it, then?"

Leaving them to it didn't actually mean leaving them to it…or, indeed, leaving. Instead, Gurdip hovered in the doorway, watching anxiously as James and Lewis opened up the floor…and found a mass of black mouldy material.

"Oh, bloody hell," Gurdip said, covering his mouth as though he might be sick. "What is that?"

"It's mine. I was wondering where I left it," Lewis quipped.

James grimaced, pulling on the spare pair of gloves he kept in his pocket for crime scenes. "Have you got that bin bag, sir?"

Lewis nodded, handing James the large plastic bin bag, and James did his best not to pull faces as he removed loads of the nasty mould-laden stuff and placed it in the bag.

"What is it?" Gurdip asked, not having received an answer the first time.

"Insulation," Lewis said. "Last tenant apparently worked out that one of the pipes was leaking, but instead of fixing the pipe, they wrapped it in insulation to soak up the water."

Gurdip shuddered. "That's disgusting."

"I," James said, removing his gloves with a satisfying snap, "would be inclined to agree."

Now that the pipes were uncovered, it was relatively easy to work out where the leak was, but even with the insulation removed, the inside of the floor was a bloody mess. Lewis already had his sleeves rolled up, and after a moment's hesitation, James rolled up his sleeves and joined him.

"So? What's the analysis?" Gurdip asked.

"One, you need professionals to do this," James said, sitting back on his heels. "Everything in here is either rotten or covered in mould."

"Good to know," Gurdip said, still looking a bit queasy.

"Two," Lewis said, "you're going to need another place to stay until this is fixed."

Gurdip seemed to wilt. "No."

"Sorry, lad," Lewis said. "But this'll all have to be ripped out and redone, your ceiling and toilet included. And you can't live here without a proper toilet."

"And even if you had a proper toilet, you couldn't get to it without a floor," James said.

Gurdip groaned.

"Do you have somewhere to go?" James asked, a bit concerned about Gurdip's response.

Gurdip nodded. "Yeah. A few mates of mine will probably let me stay with them for a bit."

"Good," Lewis said. "I'm sorry we couldn't fix this…"

"No, no," Gurdip said with a sigh. "I did wonder why my allergies always flared up in here."

James nodded. "Mind if we use your kitchen sink to clean ourselves up a bit?"

"Please, go ahead," Gurdip said. "I'll pack my bags."

James scrubbed his hands and arms three or four times,just to make sure he'd removed all the mould, and he knew he'd be changing his clothes and taking a rather lengthy shower.

"Not a fan of mould up to your elbows?" Lewis asked with a grin.

"If I could dip my arms in bleach without burning them beyond repair, I would," James said, stepping aside to let Lewis use the sink.

"What's that?" Lewis asked.

James turned his attention to the sink. "What?"

"On your arm," Lewis said. "Have you got a tattoo?"

James instinctively began to roll down his sleeve to hide it. 

"Sorry," Lewis said, looking sheepish. "Didn't know it was meant to be a secret."

James shook his head. "It's not a secret," he said. "It's from an earlier time in my life, that's all."

Lewis nodded. "I understand. Sometime I'll show you mine."

James gaped for a full thirty seconds before he realised. "Joking."

Lewis grinned. "Yeah."

Reluctantly, fighting every instinct he had to hide it, James pulled back his sleeve. "It says ' _nil satis nisi optimum_.' Which means…"

"I know what it means," Lewis said. " 'Nothing is enough unless it is the best.' "

James gave Lewis an appreciative look. "Right."

"It's the motto of Everton Football Club," Lewis explained a touch sheepishly. "But…" He reached out to touch James's arm, then remembered himself and drew back in time. "Why?"

James shrugged. "Just…a reminder."

"Sometimes, James…" Lewis trailed off.

James knew what would have come next. _I think you're too hard on yourself._ He recognised, now, that he probably was too hard on himself. But his habits were the habits of a lifetime…smoking, sarcasm, and self-deprecation. He knew how to rid himself of exactly none of them.

"What does yours say?" James asked lightly, changing the subject.

" _Floreat etona_ ," Lewis said wryly. _May Eton flourish._

James couldn't stop himself laughing, and Lewis grinned.

"Thanks for coming today," James said. "It was better having you here than it would've been if I'd come alone."

Lewis looked back in the direction Gurdip had gone. "Poor bloke just needed a bit of reassurance his house wasn't falling down." He rested a hand on James's back. "Thank you for keeping me from throwing out me back."

"Any time," James said. He pulled away from Lewis's touch self-consciously. "Sorry…I'm all sweaty."

"Yeah, me too," Lewis said. "Could do with a shower when I get home."

James tried not to picture that. He opened his mouth to reply, but Gurdip entered the kitchen before James could think of anything to say.

"I'm packed," Gurdip said, still looking a bit unhappy. "Could one of you give me a lift?"

"We came together," James said. "We'll drop you wherever you like."

"Thank you," Gurdip said. "And thank you for coming and working out what the problem was. I wouldn't have known where to start."

"You're all right," Lewis said. "Makes us feel a bit macho, tearing up floors and getting rid of mould."

James frowned at him. "Does it?"

Lewis pretended to think. "No, you're right. It doesn't."

James didn't feel macho. And he knew he hadn't exactly resolved the problem. But he did feel useful, and he suspected that was due in no small part to Lewis being there.

Lewis made everyone feel useful somehow. James knew that better than anyone.


	2. Ink

As Robbie already knew James was good with plumbing and DIY things, when his new sink began leaking, he gave James a call.

"I know you've probably got better things to do," Robbie said apologetically.

"I haven't, actually. Sinks are my life."

Robbie managed to abstain from vocal skepticism. "Don't wear anything nice."

"Don't worry. Strictly grubby stuff. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Ta," Robbie said. "See you then."

James arrived wearing a ratty novelty T-shirt and a pair of jeans riddled with holes. "Grubby enough?"

"Sorry. I think you need a few more holes," Robbie deadpanned.

James snorted with laughter and entered. He so rarely wore short-sleeved shirts on their own; usually he wore a flannel shirt over them or a long-sleeved T-shirt under them. The tattoo on his arm was fully visible like this.

Robbie had never thought much about tattoos before; when he was young, tattoos had seemed to be the province of older blokes, and he'd never paid much attention to them. But James's tattoo was some sign of what was important to him, made visible.

There was no logical reason that Robbie should want to trace the letters on James's arm with his fingers as much as he did. Robbie averted his eyes quickly so James wouldn't catch him staring.

"What seems to be the trouble?" James asked.

"Think it may be the tap leaking, but I can't get under the sink far enough to be sure," Robbie said. "Cabinet door's too narrow."

James gave Robbie an amused look. "So you need me because I fit under your sink?"

"Wouldn't have phrased it quite like that," Robbie said.

James reached into his bag of tools, pulling out some sort of elastic band and strapping it to his head.

"Spider repellent?" Lewis asked, eyebrow raised.

"Head lamp," James said. "So I can see what I'm looking at." He got on the floor, clicking on his head lamp and then scooting under the sink. "You're right. The tap isn't hooked up properly. We'll have to turn off the water, disconnect the tap, and reconnect it the right way."

Robbie nodded. "Will you be all right in there?"

"If you can hand me the tools I ask for," James said, "I think it will work fine."

"Right," Robbie said.

He'd dutifully handed James everything he'd asked for, but James was having trouble reaching something beneath the sink, and he turned onto his side to reach it better, the bottom hem of his T-shirt riding up to show the skin of his back.

A curly black shape…a treble clef, Robbie thought…stood in stark contrast to James's pale skin. It looked smooth, almost textured, as though there was something slippery and shiny attached to his back rather than ink added beneath the surface of his skin, though Robbie knew that was an illusion. Robbie's hand was halfway outstretched to touch it by the time he remembered himself. His hand hovered indecisively for a moment as he decided whether or not to pull James's shirt back into place, and then he decided that would be just as bad as touching the tattoo.

"Sir?"

Robbie shook himself mentally. "What?"

"The spanner?"

Robbie reached for it hurriedly. "Right, sorry."

There were two tattoos, not one. And now Robbie couldn't stop thinking about either one of them.

***

By the time James emerged from beneath the sink, he was well aware that something was distracting Lewis, though he'd no idea what that something could be.

"I've turned the water back on," James informed him, "so if you test the tap and everything works properly…"

Lewis turned on the water and let it run for a moment. Then he turned it off. "Can I borrow your head lamp? I just want to take another look at your back."

James had already removed the head lamp, but he frowned quizzically at Lewis. "I'm sorry…what?"

"Can I borrow your head lamp," Lewis repeated.

"Yeah, I heard that bit. What came after it?" James asked.

"I want to take another look at the pipe," Lewis said. "Really, James, you're just as distracted as me." He took the head lamp, clicking it on and crouching to peer beneath the sink.

Distracted. Another look at your back. _Oh._ James had felt his shirt ride up, but it must've revealed his tattoo. He didn't spend much time thinking about it, as it was in a place he hardly ever saw.

But Lewis had seen it. And it had distracted him enough to make that plain. Could it be that Lewis found it interesting? Exciting? James felt his pulse begin to quicken. This required a bit of investigation, and he was just the one to investigate…so he began to pull his T-shirt off over his head, turning his back to Lewis.

"No leak," Lewis said, grunting a bit as he got to his feet. "Looks like you fixed the…" He fell suddenly silent.

"Sorry," James said. "Is this all right? Only I got a bit of…gunge on the front of my shirt."

"Yeah, fine," Lewis said, sounding a bit breathless.

James felt a surge of excitement, but he kept his voice nonchalant. "Got it at university. The tattoo."

"It's nice," Lewis said, that same breathless quality to his voice.

James decided to gamble. "It's been so long since I saw it…I can hardly remember where it is," he said lightly. "Would you do me a favour? Would you trace it for me with your fingers?"

He heard Lewis swallow. "You…want me to?"

James gave Lewis an encouraging look over his shoulder. "Please."

He heard Lewis step closer, and then he felt gentle fingers rest against his skin.

"This is the bit at the bottom," Lewis whispered. His fingers traced a line up, straight up, then dipped to the right, moving down and left in a slow, lazy curve before circling round in a spiral that reached the middle. "Beautiful."

"Thank you," James whispered, his heart pounding, goosebumps rising on his skin.

Lewis's hand suddenly pressed flat against his back, Lewis's breathing quickening. "James, am I reading this right? Are you…do you want…?"

James nodded. "I do. But…I wasn't sure you did."

"Are you sure now?"

"Sure as I can be," James said.

Lewis shifted his stance, and then his arms were curving around James, pulling him in, and James could feel Lewis's cheek resting against the skin of his shoulder.

"I'm sweaty," James whispered.

Lewis didn't move away. "Me too." His lips pressed against the sensitive skin between James's shoulders, making James shiver.

James rested his arms atop Lewis's. "So…you like tattoos, do you?"

"Didn't know I did," Lewis said. "Maybe it's just yours I like."

James smiled. "I can live with that."

Lewis laughed low in his throat. "Taking off your shirt like that…I thought I'd wandered into an adult film for a moment."

James chuckled. "It wasn't subtle, I know. But it was all I could think of."

"Trust me, I didn't mind," Lewis said.

James closed his eyes, allowing himself to just soak in the interest, attraction, and yes, affection of Lewis's embrace. "I'm glad."

"You do realise this gives a whole new meaning to 'helping you with your plumbing.'"

James groaned. "That's a terrible joke."

"Yeah, I know." Lewis paused. "Could I…James, could I touch it again?"

"Of course," James said. "More than once if you like."

Lewis's warmth moved away from him, and James fought the urge to lean back against Lewis to find it again. Lewis's fingers came to rest in the middle of the treble clef (James knew where it was; he'd always known where it was; he'd just wanted Lewis to touch it). Slowly, Lewis's fingers traced the shape of the clef from the inside out, following the curve so gently that they might have been painting it afresh on his skin.

 _I love the way you touch me._ The thought stuck in James's throat and wouldn't dislodge no matter how he tried to say it.

"As we're both a bit sweaty," Lewis murmured, "we might…wash off."

It took James a minute to get his voice back after that suggestion. "I could do with a shower."

"So could I," Lewis said. "D'you fancy taking turns?"

James chuckled. "You're teasing me."

An answering hug from Lewis. "I'm a bit anxious to see if you've got any tattoos anywhere else."

James turned to face him. "You can look at mine if I can check to see if you've got any."

Lewis looked a bit shy, but undeniably delighted. "Suppose that's a fair trade."

James took Lewis's hand, tugging him gently toward the bathroom and making him laugh in surprise. "Come on. We've got to make sure the shower is working properly."

It was. And, as they soon discovered, everything in the bathroom was working just fine.


End file.
